


Mending

by ShadowSelene (Shadowdianne)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 13:09:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16285184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowdianne/pseuds/ShadowSelene
Summary: “Thou shall not enter thy room, heathen!”Asked by delirious-comfort back at tumblr“I thought I had heard your voice.”It came slurred, but Emma’s green eyes were as bright as ever as she stared at her. A part of Regina stilled; she was able to speak. Something she had seriously doubted when she had felt the connection between herself and the woman shatter; the last thing she had been able to sense the canines of the werewolf sinking on her midsection.“I may have raised it a little.” She replied softly, quickly retreating her fangs once again, the residual pain that elicited making her wince momentarily before she caressed the woman’s clammy forehead. “Have they brought a physician?”





	Mending

_“Thou shall not enter thy room, heathen!”_

Regina eyed the small pudgy man that, holding a crucifix, licked his lips before raising it again, his voice trembling as he repeated the words. At any other given time, she would have laughed at him, maybe even letting her fangs drop so she could scare him shitless before inducing sleep on him and walk inside the small one-floor wooden house she already knew by heart. This time, however, the warm yet old planks of wood where she had spent so many nights seated or the comfort the place provided against the fearful expressions of everyone who encountered outside didn’t make her feel calm nor specially forgiving. Specially because, over the shoulder of the priest, she could see the lump on the small bed, splatters of drying blood staining the sheets she had brought there, three moons ago. The ones stolen to the last adventure group who had tried to bring her head for the small village to see and congratulate themselves for another “monster” killed.

Narrowing her eyes, she took a step closer to the jambs of the door, feeling the negative energy the man expelled. Impressive, perhaps, but she already had the permission for the owner of the house to come and go as she pleased, and maybe because of that, she smiled sinisterly towards the crucifix, raising her right hand and pushing the wooden symbol lower and into the man’s chest until his eyes were glazed with terrorized tears.

“I’m not in the mood to listen to you.” She seethed, the worry that had woken her up with the sun already high in the sky eating at her as she glanced quickly at the figure inside the room, alone and completely covered with the sheets. She still had pulse, a voice inside Regina whispered, she could feel it, blood running through veins, life escaping with each breath. She only needed to enter. “You can call the guards if you want, tell them that the scary vampire is back in town for everything that I care. But you are going to let me enter if you don’t want your body ripped to pieces and fed to the wolves.”

The last part was whispered, a mutter that made the man tremble, his grip on the crucifix failing as it clattered on the floor, useless. Surprisingly, however, the man straightened his back and, muttering some words in Latin that made Regina simply raise an eyebrow, spoke again.

“You won’t take her.”

Regina’s nostrils flared, her fangs dropping this time, protruding from her mouth as purple swirls began to dance on her hair, making it glimmer as sparks of electricity started to jump out of her.

“I plan on saving her, you fool.”

This made the man gape, probably about to say something else to her. It didn’t matter however; Regina had already had quite enough of him and his stupid voice. With a snap of her fingers she let her magic envelop her, sending it to the man and transporting him outside the house with a gust of wind wrapped around his throat for good measure. As much as she wasn’t considering the guards of the small shore-close village as a threat, she didn’t want to need to take care of them. Not when it was sunlight and her control was so brittle.

As soon as the man disappeared, a final shout coming out of his mouth in a language that seemed to be a poorly learnt French, Regina barreled into the room. All poise and grace were gone as she knelt beside the bed, not much else on the small square-shaped chamber, the cot taking almost all the room. Which hadn’t mattered to her, not once, as she first locked her eyes with the blonde that now, feverish and with two gashes on her face, turned to look at her.

“I thought I had heard your voice.”

It came slurred, but Emma’s green eyes were as bright as ever as she stared at her. A part of Regina stilled; she was able to speak. Something she had seriously doubted when she had felt the connection between herself and the woman shatter; the last thing she had been able to sense the canines of the werewolf sinking on her midsection.

“I may have raised it a little.” She replied softly, quickly retreating her fangs once again, the residual pain that elicited making her wince momentarily before she caressed the woman’s clammy forehead. “Have they brought a physician?”

She couldn’t make the bandaged area out, the sheets obstructing the view but the blood drying on the sheets spoke of a too messy job. Something she didn’t quite like.

The small shake of Emma’s head, however, told her everything. It had been a shot in the dark, of course, only the local priest could enter in the house of someone bitten by a werewolf. The laws stupid and old on that regard.

“Mary Margaret came.” Emma replied, a cough making her swallow and wheeze. “She could put some poultice on the wounds before he kicked her out. I…” She cleared her throat, the pain obvious on her face as she clutched the sheets tighter around her. “I didn’t know if you were going to come. I felt…”

“The pain and the shock broke the link.” Regina replied, softly interrupting her. If she had felt the link breaking Emma had felt it too. It was too weak after all, made by one single drop of blood. A way of communicating but something that wouldn’t make others suspicious. That had always been the rule for Regina; to never put Emma in danger.

And now a werewolf had attacked her. She was going to find their den and open up their bellies with her bare hands.

“I figured.”

Focusing on Emma again, the brunette sighed and picked up one of the woman’s hands, grazing her knuckles with her lips. There was very little she could so, not here after all, not surrounded by people who wanted her dead.

“Let me bring you to my castle.” She whispered, lips kissing skin with each word. They had already spoken of this, about the possibility. Emma had wanted it, drunk each night with each other’s skin. Regina had been the reluctant one, the one who had asked her patience and time. Now, however… she felt a tendril of dread. At Emma feeling too unease, too sick for her to do the magical jump that would leave them at the entrance of the castle; high in the mountains, secluded enough so no one would go for them.

Emma chuckled, pained and soft in a way that Regina didn’t like. She was starting to get weak, that much was obvious: werewolves bites had a powerful toxin on them after all. Similar to the ones of a vampire, they didn’t go well with human blood.

“I thought you would never ask.” The blonde opened her eyes fully this time, chest raising just a little.

Regina tilted her head towards the door of the bedroom, the sound of the priest screaming beginning to sip through the walls; they didn’t have much time.

“Hold onto me.” She whispered, kissing Emma’s lips before enveloping her in a hug, trying not to put too much pressure on any injured side. “And close your eyes.”

She could feel the nod against her own cheek; Emma’s scent strong as she breathed her in.

She had fall in love with the woman two years ago, when the woman, instead of feeling afraid, had interpellated her, in a clearing near the village the place the brunette had gone to feed. During two years of short visits and too many close calls, she had never seen Emma so fragile like this very moment.

She was going to make them pay. The vow didn’t leave her mouth, however, and so she let her magic grow inside of her a second time, the screams of the priest getting louder just as she turned just enough to see him and two guards running into the room.

Too late; darkness was already transporting them far, far away.

And if they sent some adventurer to her she would brought him back with a spike on his head and his heart plucked out of his chest.

_“I love you.”_

She let out a small scoff. Two years for the words to slip. She was getting soft.


End file.
